


Normal, boring, kinky sex

by schmarry_schmotter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Derek Hale is a Failwolf, Erica Reyes is a Little Shit, Established Relationship, Injured Derek Hale, Injured Stiles Stilinski, Kinky, M/M, Puppy Play, Roleplay, Spanking, stiles stilinksi is a dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmarry_schmotter/pseuds/schmarry_schmotter
Summary: Derek's a little worried that if he and Stiles keep trying to roleplay, someone may actually die. Or Stiles' dad will walk in on them. Or both.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 117





	Normal, boring, kinky sex

**Author's Note:**

> First ever AO3 fic, first ever Sterek fic, I'm sorry about how dumb this is, I just made myself laugh reading serious BDSM/roleplay fics thinking how badly it would go if I tried it because of how much of a dumbass I am and thought hey, you know who else is a dumbass? Stiles. Unbeta'd and probably a little too British and that is MY BAD.

Derek finds it hard to have sex with Stiles. No, that's unfair. Their regular 'one-finger, two-finger, on your back, on my back, roll in the mud' sexy times goes amazing. Perfect, he'd be pushed to admit. They'd, in fact, spent a considerable amount of time honing their _expertise_ when it comes to regular rough sex. No, that's not the issue.

The issue, if he has to call it that (oh, and he really does), is when they try to get a little more... creative. Role-play wise. They quickly found out, in a series of shameless confessions over candlelight (Derek regretted ever even hinting about sex during their third date, the waitress at _Carluccio's_ dropped a vase of water on her own foot), that they were both somewhat kinkily inclined, and in fact, Stiles was positively enthusiastic. He'd made a list.

Only. Only actually doing it? It never. Worked.

The first time they'd gone from regular spanking to 'yes sir, no sir' spanking, Derek had taken Stiles over his lap, eyes dark and brow sweaty, chests heaving and toes clenching, and made him count the slaps over his perky rear.

Then, when the skin had pinked and he could feel Stiles' excitement poking him in the leg, he'd instructed the other man to move over to the bed and hold himself open. Stiles had breathlessly agreed, then attempted a handless forward roll off of his lap and concussed himself on the bedside table.

This had, obviously, put a stop to events (and almost resulted in a highly embarrassing A&E trip, till Stiles had assured Derek that his vision had cleared), and been their last foray into that side of things for several months.

Then, after an annoyingly long sex-free fortnight (goblins had holed up in the sewers and resulted in several smelly deaths, kicking the pack into action in two and a half weeks of overnight pitched battles), Stiles had thrown himself at Derek and begged him to tie him to the headboard. Derek had agreed, and once Stiles had blinked wet eyes and called him 'daddy', his erection had appeared so quickly the change in blood pressure had nearly knocked him out.

Derek had mentally rifled through the various roleplays and scenes that Stiles had mentioned over the last year or so, and decided on a classic 'captured Russian spy, sexily tortured for information'.

Okay, maybe not so much a _classic_ as a highly specific fantasy that Stiles had spelled out to him after watching the 'Black Widow tied to a chair' fight scene of The Avengers. He'd got a passable Russian accent and Stiles had caught on immediately, wriggling and panting and throwing his long, white neck back like he hated it (his huge boner was very clearly giving the game away, but Derek generously ignored it).

The night got hot and heavy, and the 'torture' more like sloppy foreplay, and Derek's Russian accent took a detour through most of Europe, landing on a weird Welsh-Canadian slur, and in a fit of sexy improv, he pulled his boyfriend to his feet, hands wrenched behind his back, frog-marched him into the bathroom, bent him over the sink, then took a step back to admire the view, and slipped on a puddle of spilled water, putting his entire arm through the glass shower screen.

Stiles had gotten a little wobbly at the sight of half a pint of arterial blood escaping his lupine boyfriend, but valiantly given himself rope burn escaping his bondages in order to lurch forward, grab an abandoned shirt, press it to Derek's torn arm, catch his own skin on the glass in the process and secured them a trip to the hospital after all.

Again, this had prompted a cease in attempts, but neither of them had wanted to stop trying _completely_ , so on a lovely, hot summers eve, Derek presents an Amazon Prime package to Stiles and watches as he opens it.

"Wow! This is... what is this?" Stiles puzzles enthusiastically, immediately getting tangled in the many leather straps. Derek happily helps him to escape, rearranging the material till it presented itself in a more recognisable structure.

"Oh, _oh_!" Stiles figures it out and (thank god) doesn't show any sign of being weirded out by it. Derek hadn't had any real doubt that he would, his own list of kinks and fetishes had been a _lot_ smaller than Stiles' own endless requests (he'd needed a lot of them explaining, actually, with a rather pink Stiles assuring him that he was totally cool with never actually doing _any_ of them, he was just leaving options open).

He pulls the rest of it from the plastic packaging and hands it to Stiles, who's already standing in his Spiderman boxer-briefs, one arm through the bright purple leather harness.

Once the hood is fixed on comfortably, he tilts his head to one side, crooks his elbows, lets his hands hang in a silly simulation of paws and gives a rather sensual "Woof."

Derek laughs, grabbing the collar and pulling his dumbass boyfriend to the sofa.

Once again, the play begins well, Stiles takes it as seriously as he can and Derek doesn't particularly care when he breaks down in giggles, and they're almost to the full on sex part of the scene when it, of course, goes wrong again.

"You're such a good boy." Derek grips the back of Stiles' neck, applying enough pressure to push him down into his lap, keep him still and tense. Stiles runs his hands (long since having forgotten to curl them into paws, but Derek forgives him) up the werewolf's thighs, panting and leaving little red lines that disappear instantly. "Come on, show me how good you are."

Stiles tugs at Derek's strained underwear with shaking hands, springing him out just in time for Scott to burst into the apartment, shouting about killer harpies, followed by Allison, Erica and basically half of the pack. Derek regrets a lot of things in this life, but not moving this into the bedroom ranks pretty highly.

"It's not like we _need_ to roleplay." Stiles reasons, breathing heavily and lying heavier over Derek's own heaving chest. It's a week later and after two days of Erica sniggering 'woof woof' whenever she saw them together, Stiles had pointed out the time he found Boyd dressed in a maid uniform, hiding behind Erica's bedroom curtain. Erica had only shrugged at this, unrepentant, but had laid off of the dog jokes. For now.

Derek grunts, neither in agreement nor disagreement. Stiles takes this as encouragement, and continues, running a hand up and down his boyfriend's side in a way that's going to get him interrupted in no less than four minutes if he carries on.

"We have _world shattering_ sex without it. Mountain breaking. Atom splitting. Universe inspiring. You get my drift." Derek rarely, rarely does. "And it's not like we're not _kinky_ , my god, you stuck your tongue in my ass in a lake not _ten minutes_ after we freed a pod of mermaids from a hunters trap, essentially preventing a _genocide_. I got lake water up my ass, Derek, and I _liked it_. It was a _sexy celebration rimming_. Who does that?!"

Derek had gotten lake water up his nose, but it'd been worth it. They did that. "We do have good sex. Everyone says so." Stiles snorts at this, flicking at Derek's nipple and receiving a bodily twitch for his efforts.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's how they all put it. I've just heard we have 'too much sex in too many public places, what's wrong with you, you know that's a felony right?'. Or something like that. _Anyway_ ," He props himself up on his elbows, staring into Derek's eyes from less than three inches away, kissing him on the nose. "My point is, we have all the kinky rough sex we can, literally all the time, the only time we have issues is when we like... _try_."

"So... we should just keep having accidental kinky sex?"

"Well... yeah!" Stiles sighs and twists, slumping next to Derek, bumping his head. "Ow. Yeah. Sad as I am to say it, but maybe we should just keep... having normal kinky sex."

"Normal kinky sex."

"Yeah. Normal, boring, kinky sex."

Derek turns his face to stare his ridiculous boyfriend in the eye. "Normal, boring kinky sex? Normal boring sex between a mage and a werewolf, outdoors and in... ugh, Stiles last week you asked Deaton if there was a charm that existed so you could give me a temporary _knot_ , how is _any_ of the sex we have _normal_?"

Stiles shrugs, casually rolling onto one side and flopping his hand onto his boyfriend's sadly non-knotted penis. "To a certain definition of normal. No more roleplay, no more outfits, no more dirty names. Derek, I cannot express enough how I do not want for my _father_ to walk in on us. Or for headmaster/naughty student roleplay to end in an accidental amputation. Or whatever the next escalation is."

Derek sighs a deeply put out sigh and rolls his boyfriend over, grinding down hard and pinning the humans hands above his head, licking a hot stripe up his neck. Stiles' amber eyes roll back into his head and he arches his back, breathing out an embarrassing 'meep'.

"Fine." Derek breathes, quiet and deep. "Let's carry on having _boring_ ," he punctuates each word with a bite to his boyfriends neck, sucking slightly and leaving pink marks, "normal. Kinky. Sex _._ Stiles. Stilinski."

"Yeah... okay...." Stiles manages, wriggling a little desperately. " _Alpha_ -"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Derek admonishes, pulling back slightly. "In bed, that definitely counts as a sexy name. Call me Derek."

He pushes his fingers past Stiles' swollen, pink lips, sucking a nipple into his mouth and rolling it with his tongue. Stiles cries out, muffled, the sound almost a 'Derek'. The night continues beautifully, Derek taking his mate apart piece by piece, using only his given name and all the rough and dirty tricks in his book without once entering the 'role play' zone.

And they remain, thankfully, uninterrupted and uninjured.

Until morning, that is, when Stiles' phone rings with another pack emergency and he rolls out of bed and smacks his hand so hard on an open draw he swears he's broken a knuckle. But he insists that doesn't count, and Derek loves him too much to argue.


End file.
